


Assimilation Arc 1: On My Own

by LegendaryTokuWarrior



Series: AVP: Chronicles [1]
Category: Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator
Genre: Body Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryTokuWarrior/pseuds/LegendaryTokuWarrior
Summary: Let me tell you a story. A story of a boy raised by wolves. A boy who was made to be one of their own.





	1. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all starts with a single step. It may seem small to you, but to me, it’s a big one. One big, giant step.

After taking the first step off of the ship, she took a look at her surroundings. She noted that while their tracks where everywhere, evident by the obvious signs of chaos that came with the creatures, all signs of the Kiande Amedha, Hard-Meat, presence within the ooman settlement was centered towards one building in particular.

Big strides moved the Yautja through the hospital. Corpses littered the floor and blood covered the ceiling. She didn't care. Both were just leading to the Rahi, her prey. Once she killed it, she would have the biggest trophy; the head of a true abomination. Some Barraki had started this mess, and she was going to clean it up. As a Makuta, it was her job after all.

She shook her head, letting out a low growl. Even if this wasn't an U’darahje, an Abomination, or a true challenge, she'd still be here to clean up the mess anyway. The fool had been young, too young as it turned out, and overzealous. He believed himself to be superior and plenty capable to hunt an entire nest of Hard-Meat single-handedly. He tried, and now look where it got the Bad-Blood. Dead, that’s where.

A small sound made the Yautja whip her head around. A survivor? Surely, the Abomination, let alone a Hard-Meat, wouldn't have left anyone alive. She moved towards the sound, cautious as any hunter, and entered a side room. Ooman women with large bellies were lying on several beds, their bellies ripped open from the inside. The signs were obvious. She would have to be on the look-out for even more of the Hard-Meat now.

Then she heard the sound again. It was a small sound, that sounded oddly happy. She slowly moved towards it. It wasn't a Hard-Meat. The noise they made was entirely different. As she switched through her many modes of vision, she realized that it had to be one of those small oomans. A child, she believed. She stepped around the final bed in the room, and there it was.

It was mostly covered by something, her visor told her, but it was clearly alive, judging by how the cloth moved, like as if tiny feet and hands were kicking. She bent down and lifted the cloth, revealing the soft pink flesh of the small ooman beneath. Before she could pull her hand away though, it was gripped by two tiny hands.

Before her disbelieving eyes, the baby pulled her hand towards its mouth and stuck a finger inside. The gum of the alien mouth felt odd against the Yautja's skin. How this little creature had managed to survive despite the Hard-Meats walking around was beyond her, but she had to admit, the creature had something endearing about it.

It looked at her with bright blue eyes, as if it knew something about her that she herself could not grasp. For a moment, the mouth left her finger and the baby cooed again, it's entire face lighting up as it smiled up at her. The Yautja grinned a little, though only another Yautja would recognize it as a grin. This little being wasn't afraid of her. And it had somehow survived all that had happened around it.

With her free hand, she lifted the young pink thing. It seemed to turn in her arm, moving itself closer towards her chest as she held it. Head tilted to the side, she regarded the action. Cold. The creature seemed cold. She picked up the cloth she had pulled away earlier and wrapped it around the thing. The kicking the creature did quiet down then, and its body heat slowly rose.

Such fragile beings these creatures were. Some were fun to hunt. They made so many mistakes and thought they did so well. It was what made oomans the perfect prey for trainees, even though the honor to be received from the kill was low. But there was no honor in killing this little thing. And deep down inside, the Yautja realized that even if she did want to, she might not be able to. It had already shown it had courage. And survival instinct.

Reaching a decision, she let out a low growl again and left the room, the bundle still in her arms. She followed what tracks she could find. Most of the Hard-Meats were dead by now, she had seen to that, but she would avoid the rest if possible. She only had one prey in mind. The baby didn't make a sound, but those piercing blue eyes still regarded her, tiny hands gripping the cloth tightly.

As she got higher and higher, she started to miss her burner. Her visors and sensors detected Hard-Meat all over the place. With one hand only, her skills were limited. Her experience, however, made it to where she was still efficient enough to take care of them. Holding the bundle protectively against her with one arm, she took out her spear with the other, making her way up the building, towards the roof, where her prey would no doubt be.

One floor below the roof, she placed the bundle down. She could not allow herself to only use one arm in the fight that was to come. As the baby cooed at her again, she quickly put her finger on its mouth, the bundle quietening immediately. She grinned again. Brave and intelligent. She didn't quite know what she wanted with it, but she felt she wanted to ensure its survival, to see what creature it would become as it grew. She turned from the bundle and jumped up, bursting through the roof.

The fight didn't last as long as she had hoped, though her opponent was worthy. The puncture wound in her chest proved that. However, she had been able to avoid any lethal damage. She pulled back her wrist blades quickly, the acid damaging them. A low whistling sound pulled her attention to the sky. Aircraft of ooman manufacture. Not silent, nor efficient. As her visor zoomed in, she could tell what they were planning.

She quickly jumped down the hole and grabbed the bundle. She jumped back up, grabbing the tail of her prey in her free hand and raced for the edge of the rooftop. She ran, harder and faster than she ever had before. Jumping off the roof, she continued her sprint. As she reached the edge of the colony, the bomb connected with the ground. She heard the explosion before she felt it. It was a deafening sound.

Moments later, the shockwave hit her. She flew forward, clasping the bundle against her chest. Crash landing, she rolled instinctively, keeping her body undamaged, apart from the damage it had already sustained. It left her dazed. She shook her head roughly, trying to get herself back into focus. She looked at the bundle in her arms, feeling an odd sense of relief as she realized it was still alive.

But now that she had escaped, with her trophy and this pink thing... What was she to do with it?

The Yautja sat in front of her ship. She had called it in hours ago but had yet to board. Her chest was tended to and had healed. On her lap, gleefully looking up at her, was a baby. An ooman baby. She didn't understand why she felt the need to protect it, or why those noises it made pulled her face into a smile without her permission. She frowned and picked the thing up.

She held it close to her face, regarding it. What was she to do with this thing? Tiny hands placed themselves on her mask and she quickly put more distance between her head and the baby. As a result, the baby pulled an unhappy face. Its tiny lips trembled. Then there was noise. Lots of it.

The Yautja blinked in shock. How could such a small thing make that much noise? Water streamed down the baby’s cheeks. She believed the oomans called that crying. She tried covering its mouth with a hand, but it didn't quite seem to like that either. Frustrated, she got up and started pacing, carrying the baby in one arm again. Now once again close to the warm body, the crying diminished.

Odd creature. She looked down at it as it grew quiet again. Its mouth opened widely, showing the gum and tongue inside its mouth before closing. Little fists rubbed into its eyes before closing. It wasn't long before the Yautja realized that the child had gone to sleep, as it had stopped moving around so much. Its vitals were fine though.

It was then that she knew what she would do with this child. With no other oomans for scores around, she had nowhere to take the little thing. That left only one option. She would have to take it with her. But then what? She couldn’t just dump the small child on another Yautja. This meant that the responsibility of raising the child fell to her. Despite this, she didn’t mind it though and dare she say it, it also brought her a slight feeling of satisfaction and joy.

. . .

And so, she raised the child as her own, a surprisingly welcome new member of the clan. She named the child Zugan, after an ancestor of hers. He was the first Yautja to become a Makuta, an Arbitrator, one who dispatches Cetanu’s justice. He was also the first to be known as a Makuta Nui, the most elite of the Makuta. She did this in hopes that it would bless him with the strength and prowess that his namesake was said to have possessed. She taught the child many things; the ways of her people, their culture, language and most importantly, the sacred ways of the hunt.


	2. Welcome to the Jungle

Fear. The only emotion he could feel while he sat around his campfire, curled in a ball and shivering to keep warm. His mother had taught him better, but he couldn’t help it. Doing these things with her or any of the other members of his clan was one thing but by himself… His clothes were in tatters and not providing the proper heat retention he so desperately needed and every breeze that blew by only caused goose bumps to crawl across every pore of his body. He had to keep warm, he knew that very well. But trekking through a jungle that he had never been in was not a wise choice when looking for dry wood for a fire, but he had no choice.

Somehow, he had come across a downed tree that had already dried, the limbs that he could carry were not thick enough to last all night, but they would do for a small time.

_At least to dry off and warm myself up._ He had thought.

That was what he had hoped for. Nightfall was already upon him and he had wasted yet another day at fleeing from far away as he could from anything that could have been lurking…or watching him from when he was dropped off on this planet.

The orange and yellow flames crackled and popped sending sparks into the cool air. It brought ease to his mind, the sounds of this lantern in the night was soothing to his ears and gave him a sense of comfort as he was enveloped with the silence of the strange jungle. In the silence, he had time to reflect on the events that had led him to where he was currently.

. . .

He had been training, perfecting his technique in the ways of the hunt to the best of his abilities, when R’kah, his mother, had told him that it was time.

You see, in keeping tradition with his clan, every member must spend an entire year on a foreign jungle planet with nothing but a knife and the clothes on their backs. This was done to determine if a hunter was ready to receive training for their Chiva. The Chiva, a sacred trial that acted as one’s rite of passage into adulthood. The event that would have them marked, no longer looked upon as a Dah-Matoran, but as a Matoran. One step closer to being Toa, a true blooded warrior.

And so, they boarded the first ship they could and made their way to the planet where his trial would commence.

R’kah lowered herself so that she looked her son straight into his bright blue eyes with deep yellow orbs of her own. “Zugan, my son. I have taught you everything you need to know. Now you must show me what you have learned.” When she spoke, it was with a reassured kindness. She had always been that way with him. Right from day one.

“Yeah, but, is this really the best way? This is a completely foreign jungle.” There was an obvious tone of nervousness mixed with a reasonable amount of uncertainty in his voice. “Wouldn’t it be better to do this in one that I’m familiar with?”

R’kah only gave a light chuckle at his words. “That is the whole point. Besides, if I did that, it would defeat the whole purpose of leaving you here. Do you understand this?”

He nodded. “Ok.” Zugan looked down in disappointment but agreed all the same. He understood what she was saying to him and she was right. Knife aside, she had given him all the tools he would need to pass this test in the form of knowledge. Knowledge, R’kah had once told him, was one of the greatest things a hunter could possess. With knowledge, one could be that much more likely to be victorious in what they did. And with victory came honor. Honor not only to themselves but to the clan.

With that, Zugan watched as R’kah made her way back into the ship. He stared as it took off, back into the stars. Even when it was gone, he still stood there. He did this for a few minutes. Eventually, he made his way out of the clearing and into the forest before him.

Once he was a good distance from the clearing, he then began to do one of the first things his mother had taught him when he was younger. His mother, being a seasoned hunter, had shown him many ways to build makeshift traps out of sturdy woods, and so he did just that. He began to build many different traps, setting them up elaborately across his trails.

That was only on day one. How many days had passed now, he did not know. In those coming days, he had done some reconnaissance for water and a supply for food. Sadly, however, there were no streams and the animals he came across were so foreign that he had not dared kill anything, let alone try and capture something for food. Luckily though, it rained every day and there were many large-leafed plants that held ample supplies of water for his thirst.

. . .

And so here he was.

Somehow though, he had survived for a while now on water alone. His body had already consumed most of his reserved body fats and his muscles were beginning to become strained with every passing day that he did not consume the proper amount of food needed to keep him going.

_I really do miss naxa._ He groaned as his stomach rumbled, craving for some of the delectable fruit he had come to love so much as a child.

Suddenly though, his luck had seemed to run dry much like his firewood. For no longer had his stomach growled as the sound of rustling bushes startled him to attention.

**Author's Note:**

> So this Chapter is based on the movie AVP; Requiem. The Predator in this chapter is basically a Female version of Wolf.  
> I'm honestly not sure where this story will go but I have a vague idea of where it might end up. Either way, I wish to do this all the same.  
> I will be using a mix of established Yautja words and ones that I make up as well as words from the Bionicle franchise. I will do my best to translate/give the (intended) definitions of the words used by either context or just flat out saying it.


End file.
